


Sterling's Only Silver (Much To Your Delight)

by br0ken_hands



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Genderqueer Character, Implied Sexual Content, Monroe and Harper are both stubborn as helll, and Sterling just wants to get them together, season 2 spoiler free, season 3 spoiler free, these two are literally the most oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6200215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/br0ken_hands/pseuds/br0ken_hands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monroe tilted their head a little, auburn braids swinging over a shoulder. “You know her?”<br/>Sterling scoffed a little, brushing off eraser shavings. “Yea. Our parents were good friends. Why?”<br/>Monroe shrugged, lips pressing together as they continued to study the motionless figure on the other side of the room.<br/>Sterling’s jaw dropped a little bit and he leaned over to look at Monroe’s distant eyes. “Oh. My. Goodness...” He drawled out, grin growing wider, “You have a crush on her, don’t you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sterling's Only Silver (Much To Your Delight)

**Author's Note:**

> Not connected to any of my previous works.  
> I followed Katie Stuart's headcanon that Monroe was fluid in both gender and sexual attraction. Neither of those topics will be addressed directly in this fic. However, Monroe will be addressed using gender neutral they/them/their pronouns.  
> This is totally unbeta'ed so apologies in advance for mistakes in grammar and syntax!
> 
> Note (08 December 2017): I just found 18000 pronoun mistakes in this so I'll be fixing them as I read over this again, sorry y'all!

“Sterling, who’s she?” Monroe asked, nodding towards the girl in the corner staring out the observation deck.

The girl’s two blonde braids were held back from her face by a ripped black headband, hazel eyes glowing in the light of the distant stars. She had been sitting there, hunched over, gazing out into the stars and swirling galaxies for the past few days. Monroe was a long time resident at the Sky Box, they knew everybody in the godforsaken prison. This girl was new. Monroe hadn’t ever seen her before. Her face betrayed the tell-tale fear in a new delinquent’s eyes. She couldn’t have been older than 14. She was smaller than most of the other prisoners and was horrifyingly feeble.

“Hm?” Sterling raised his head from the picture he was drawing. “Oh, that’s Harper.” He said, returning to his sketches, “She was from Agro Station. One of four people who can still speak Welsh up on this piece of junk.”  
Monroe tilted their head a little, auburn braids swinging over a shoulder. “You know her?”  
Sterling scoffed a little, brushing off eraser shavings. “Yea. Our parents were good friends. Why?”  
Monroe shrugged, lips pressing together as they continued to study the motionless figure on the other side of the room.  
Sterling’s jaw dropped a little bit and he leaned over to look at Monroe’s distant eyes. “Oh. My. Goodness...” He drawled out, grin growing wider, “You have a crush on her, don’t you?”  
Monroe jerked away, their face twisted in visible disgust. “Dude, no. I don’t even know her!”  
“Doesn’t mean you’re not crushing on her!” Sterling jested, leaning away as Monroe batted at his face, “Ow! Don’t hit me!”  
Monroe harrumphed and turned back to the blonde girl, crossing their arms over their chest as they continued observing. “Then shut up.”  
Sterling looked down at his drawing, picking up his pencil and raising an eyebrow in amusement.

\---

When Monroe’s cellmate was pardoned, they spent four days wondering what it must have been like for Tsvan to return to normal society and reintegrate with the Arkers. Monroe chucked to themself. They wouldn’t have been able to do it. All they knew was a life in a metal box in a giant floating metal prison, contained in even more metal, all floating high and mighty above the earth they abandoned. Sometimes they think about what life on the ground must have been like. What it must have been like to eat food that wasn’t freeze-dried or vacuum-sealed, or what it must have smelled like. Monroe figured that earth must have smelled different than the recirculated air on the Ark. The air here was stale and stank of sweat and machinery and felt suffocating. Surely, the air on the ground would smell sweet and... different.

Monroe was shaken out of their thoughts by a the sound of her cell door unlocking. The heavy metal slate swung open and a thin figure was shoved unceremoniously across the threshold.  
“Harper.” Monroe breathed, scanning their eyes over the shivering blonde and the small bundle of clothes she was clasping tightly to her chest..

“Monroe, this is your new cellmate. Get acquainted or kill each other, doesn’t matter to me.” The guard barked through the now closing door before slamming it shut.

Monroe listened for the heavy thunk of the electronic lock sealing the two in for the night. Returning her attention to the girl on the floor, Monroe slowly got off the cot and moved towards Harper, as if moving too quickly would startle her.  
The girl was sobbing quietly, tears and snot running down her face, lithe body shivering slightly from the cold.

Monroe leaned down towards Harper. “Can I help you up to your cot?” They asked quietly, trying hard to not scare the girl any further.  
Harper set down the bundle of clothes gently, then firmly wrapped her arms around Monroe’s torso, pressing her face against their shoulder.  
Taken aback, Monroe straightened her back, before stopping herself. “Uh, okay.” They huffed, before sitting themself down on the cold metal floor. They rocked their body back and forth a little, trying to calm the sobbing girl down. Of the little they remembered about their mother, this was one of them. When Monroe was terrified or crying, their mother would cuddle them closely and rock them back and forth softly to help them find solid ground again. 

Half an hour later, Harper had stopped sobbing and Monroe’s shirt was soaked through.  
“Listen, I know this is really comfortable, but my legs are kind of falling asleep.” Monroe chuckled quietly, “Can I lift us over to your cot?”  
The little nod from their chest was enough to let Monroe carry the curled body to the empty cot and set her down gently, before returning to bring the pile of clothes.  
Harper slowly straightened out, sitting upright at the far end of the cot.

Monroe set the stack of folded cloth by girl, and sat down slowly. “My name is Monroe and I was from Factory Station. I guess I’m your new cellmate.” They fiddled with their nails, clearing the dirt from under them, “I’m not really good with feelings or small talk, so I guess I’ll just keep talking until you tell me to stop. The girl here before you -”  
“They floated her.” Harper whispered, her raspy, worn voice cutting through the cell like a sword.  
Monroe’s forehead creased a little. “No, Tsvan was pardoned -”  
“No, no, my cellmate.” Harper sniffled, “She was floated two days ago. I didn’t know what to do so I sat in my cell and cried and cried and the guards told me to shut up but I kept crying, and now I’m here because they think that by having a cellmate I’ll be better but...” She rambled, chest heaving as she cried.  
“Shhh...” Monroe hushed, rubbing a comforting hand over Harper’s back, “You’re okay here.”  
Harper nodded, tucking her head under Monroe’s shoulder, and leaning into them. 

Monroe wakes up the next morning with a cramping neck and a crick in their neck, but Harper’s still snoring quietly into their chest and they’re happy to stay there just a little bit longer.

\---

Three years pass without incident, as Harper and Monroe became closer friends. In the first nights when Harper still cried over her cellmate’s death, Monroe would slide her cot a little closer to Harper’s so Harper could hold on to her arm like she did in the past. When Harper’s night terrors subsided, Monroe’s cot remained close by, some nights even pressed up against Harper’s own cot, and in the morning, Monroe would push her cot back to the other side of the room before gently shaking Harper awake. 

“Dude, Monroe, you are so whipped.” Sterling teased, ribbing at the redhead.  
Monroe rolled their eyes, shoving the boy playfully. “Shut. Up. Sterling, oh my goodness.” They hissed, as Harper made her way over.  
“Good morning, Sterling!” She said, cheery as always.  
Sterling pulled a hand through ruffled hair. “‘Morning, Ms. Mon- ow!”  
Monroe dug their elbow deep into Sterling’s side as Harper cast him a confused glance.  
“Ignore him, please.” Monroe growed, thumping Sterling hard over the back, “He’s being annoying again.”  
Harper smiled sweetly, grabbing a hold of Monroe’s forearm. “We’re supposed to stay in our cells after breakfast today, will you teach me more poems? Please?” She pled.  
Monroe huffed. “Yeah, give me five minutes, I’ll be in our cell.” They answered, smiling as the blonde skipped away towards the cells.

Sterling turned to Monroe with a raised eyebrow. “Poems, Monroe? Really?”  
Monroe groaned dramatically. “Stop. I swear, Sterling. I don’t like her.” They turned on their heel, beginning the walk back to the cell.  
“But you love her.”  
Sterling’s voice stopped them in their tracks.  
“I know you do. It’s so obvious, Monroe. It’s in the way you look at her and talk to her. She tells me you two literally share a cot at this point, and you’re there at her beck and call, you’re a lovesick puppy!”  
Monroe looked down at her boot clad feet. It was true. All of it. But...  
“Monroe, she loves you too. What’s stopping you from telling her how you actually feel about her?”  
The redhead remained still, staring at their shoes, unsure of how to react. Sterling was right. “Sterling, I just... I don’t know if...”

Just then two long klaxon sounds pierced the air.  
“Shit, we have to get back to our cells.” Sterling pointed a finger right at Monroe, eyes set. “We are talking about this later, ‘Roe, no getting out of this.”  
With that, the two separate ways, heading to their individual cells

\---

Monroe made it back with just a minute to spare before the heavy lock settles into place. Harper had already pulled the cot across the floor to meet with her own, and the worn poetry book sat on her lap. Monroe laughed She had gotten complaints from the cell underneath telling them to stop “getting their freak on” late at night. She was reluctant to tell the girls that the sounds they were hearing was from the cot being dragged across the floor - not strenuous activity on said cot - but it made them think of what Sterling said all the more.

“Monroe, can we do that one by Whitman again?” Harper asked, legs crossed on the cot.  
Monroe laughed. “Yeah, we can. O Captain! My Captain!”  
“Oh Captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done!” Harper began, dramatically leaping up onto the bed.  
Monroe leapt onto the rickety cot, nearly slipping. They steadied themself, giggling. “The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won.”  
“The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting.” Harper sang, twirling on the bed, “While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring.” Her hands dropped down onto Monroe’s shoulders, grasping them tightly.  
Monroe swallowed, then continued in a low and raspy voice. “ But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red”  
“Where on the deck my Captain lies,”  
“Fallen cold and...”

Just then, a heavy thunk and the sound of the door turning ripped the worlds from Monroe’s mouth as the two turned to the door.  
“Harper, stay behind me.” Monroe uttered, steadying themselves on the cots.

The door swung open to reveal four guards, all pointing their rifles at the delinquents. With astonishing speed, the guards rushed at the two as several more guards appeared.  
Monroe felt themself be pulled violently off of the cot and slammed into the cell wall. Groaning, they turned and watched helplessly as Harper was brutally tackled off the beds and pinned down onto the floor.

“Harper!” They cried, fighting against the guards. They felt a sharp prick against their neck, before their legs gave out and darkness spotted her vision. “Harper... Harper...” They wheezed, before the drug knocked her out.

\---

Waking up on the dropship beside Harper was the best thing that could have happened to Monroe. Relieved to see that both their friend and Sterling were alright, Monroe let out a sigh of relief. They couldn’t be bothered by the fact that they were hurtling towards earth at a breakneck speed, nor by the fact that some idiot had died because he unbuckled his seatbelt. Harper and Sterling were safe. Monroe settled a little further into their seat, clenching their jaw as the pressure became too much for their ears, closing their eyes waiting for the last time they would have to walk out of a metal prison.

\---

Monroe was right. The air down here was different. There was constant movement, like the whole of earth was situated in front of an air vent. It smelled of a thousand new things that Monroe couldn’t identify. The scent in the air was constantly changing, always new, always strange, and always awe-inspiring. Monroe’s first steps on the ground were taken right after Harper’s and right before Sterling’s. It only felt right that the three step off the dropship one after the other. Harper had immediately began dancing on the soft earth, squealing when she saw squirrels and birds in the canopies above. Sterling oohed and ahhed at the textures of the plants and trees, marveling at every new colour and sound. Monroe stood, jaw dropped, as they took in the vastness of the world they had landed on. Nothing on the Ark could have prepared them for this. This was bigger than the textbooks had said. It was louder, brighter, bolder, and everything Monroe had imagined and more. 

“Monroe, look at all of this!” Harper squealed, gushing over a small clearing, “There’s... so much!”  
Monroe made their way slowly to the clearing, sitting themselves down on the ground. “Wow,” they mumbled, overwhelmed, “This is so much better than sitting on our cell floor.”  
Harper giggled, then sat down beside them. “I never got to thank you for taking care of me when I first got put in your cell, Monroe. I really appreciated it.”  
Monroe turned to look at the girl, and smiled. “I’m glad I could help, Harper.”  
The two then fell into an amicable silence, just taking in the vast world before them.

\---

“Harper, honey, we need to talk.” Sterling hissed, pulling gently on Harper’s arm.  
“Yeah, what can I do for you?” She asked sweetly.  
Sterling sighed. “Monroe refuses to come out of their tent. They keep muttering something about you flirting with Jasper. Care to enlighten me?”  
Harper’s face fell. “Why would they care if I was flirting with Jasper? It’s not their problem.”  
Sterling frowned deeply “Harper...”  
“What, Sterling?” The blonde demanded, “What are you trying to say?”  
“Harper, we all know you don’t really -”  
Harper threw her arms up in frustration. “Spit it out already, Sterling.”  
“You’re not actually flirting with Jasper because you like him, are you? It’s because you want to make Monroe jealous!” Sterling all but shouted, fists clenched at his sides.  
Harper stopped breathing. “... No, Sterling.”  
Sterling screeched in frustration with a ferocity not unlike that of a pterodactyl. “Harper, you are so in love with Monroe and everyone knows it. You two are practically an old married couple!”  
“I... I thought they were with you? I...”  
“No, we’re not dating, Jesus, why does everyone think that? Harper, don’t mess this up, girl. You deserve the world, and Monroe is obviously everything to you. Also, I have a long-standing bet with Bellamy over whether or not you two would ever date, and I kind of want the chocolate rations that we bet.”  
Harper chuckled a little, before dropping her shoulders again. “But what if they don't like me back?”  
Sterling closed his eyes for a brief second, before sighing. “Harper, Monroe has been in love with you since you arrived in the Sky Box, for god’s sake. Everything they’ve done since then, they’ve done for you. They never shared their love of poetry with anyone, until you arrived. They negotiated for extra clothes to be brought to you that one time you got put into solitary because you punched Atom for being a dick to Charlotte so that you wouldn't freeze to death. Do you remember that time you got a goddamn cupcake on your 16th birthday? Monroe had been saving up their rations, manufactured some sort of alcoholic drink using that stale-ass bread and fruit, then traded the alcohol for a cupcake. It took them four months, Harper. Monroe is so in love with you, and you are so in love with them. It won’t backfire on you, Harper. Just go.”

Harper looked at her feet. “Oh.” She whispered, cheeks flushing red, “I guess I better go fix things then?”  
Sterling laughed. “Yeah, you’d better, girl. I want Monroe back to their normal, sarcastic and ‘so deeply in love but too damn stubborn to admit it’ state.”

\---

Harper stood outside of Monroe’s tent, steeling herself for whatever may come. Slowly, she unzipped the door, and stuck her head in.

“Monroe? Can I talk to you for a second?” She asked, gently.  
Monroe grunted. “Yeah, fine.” They bit off, visibly irked.  
Harper swallowed and clambered into the structure, sitting cross-legged on the sleeping bag. “So... I’ve been made aware I was a bit of a dick today...” She began.

Monroe’s eyebrows rose up to their hairline, and Harper would have laughed, but now was not the time! “I... I feel like it would be better if I told the story from the start, if that’s okay with you.”  
Monroe shrugged half-heartedly. “I’ve got all day.”

Harper took a deep breath, before looking right into Monroe’s eyes. “Now that I look back at it, you’ve been there for me every step of the way in the Sky Box. You were there when I first came into the cell sobbing, and stayed by my side even after the worst of it was over. You gave me the best of what you had and cared for me first and foremost. You helped me in solitary and worked for so long to get me that cupcake...”  
“Sterling that loose-lipped sonofa-!” Monroe gaped.  
“Shhhh” Harper chastised, giggling, “What I’m trying to say is that, sometime during that I... I...” Harper swallowed, tears forming and blurring her vision, “I’m so in love with you, Monroe. I’m so in love with you, and I need you to know that. I need you to know that you’re more to me than just my best friend and my poetry partner and my safety and refuge, and -”

She stopped when she felt Monroe’s calloused hands caress her face. “I need you to stop talking for a second, Harper” they said, “I’m not good with this whole... feelings thing, remember?” They chuckled, “I communicate better by actions.”  
“Oh.” Harper whispered, before grinning. “So you’re asking me to kiss you?”  
“More or less. Perhaps with a little more eloquence than that.” Monroe scoffed, rolling their eyes.

Harper quickly closed the distance, smiling dopily into the kiss. She felt Monroe smiling back as their short, sweet kiss ended in a clash of teeth bumping into each other, but neither of the two were too concerned about that, rather, laughing and grinning like fools.

“About damn time!” They heard Sterling shout from outside the tent.  
“Perv!” Monroe hollered back, flipping him off from inside the tent.  
Harper snickered into Monroe’s shoulder. “Babe, he can’t see that.”  
Monroe rolled their eyes. “Who gives a damn?” They managed to sputter, before dissolving into laughter along with the blonde beside them.

\---

“Mm, as much as I love reciting poetry with you...”  
“What? Like it better when I speak French between your legs?” Monroe snickered, their arm draped possessively over Harper’s bare stomach.  
Harper snorted, pressing a kiss to Monroe’s forehead. “Yeah, something along that line.” She mumbled.  
Monroe curled up around Harper’s body, savouring the warmth. “When do you think Clarke’s going to come back?” They asked, voice muffled by the sheets.  
“Shhh” Harper hushed, brushing her fingers through unruly red hair, “We’ll talk about that later. Just you and me right now.”  
“Mmmf.” Monroe grunted, “Just you and me. I’m glad you told me how you felt about me, Harp.”  
Harper smiled sweetly. “And I’m glad I got put in that same cell as you, ‘Roe.” She watched as Monroe’s eyes slowly drifted shut, their hair glowing in the afternoon sun filtering through the window. “Rwy'n dy garu di. I love you.” She whispered just as Monroe was on the cusp of sleep.  
Monroe smiled. “I love you too, Harper.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, I'm glad you stuck through to the end! If you're like me and struggling with what happened in episode 6 and 7, I highly suggest making a trip over to Katie Stuart's twitter page, @katievanstuart. She's been absolutely amazing with talking with fans about what happened and helping them through it.  
> Thank for reading - Harpoe is a highly underrated ship, considering that both Katie and Chelsea (Harper) are super on board with it. I will go down with this ship!  
> Also - on the odd chance that Katie Stuart is reading this, you're really cool, will you go to formal with me?


End file.
